Human emotions are like clocks: some of ’em will run longer ’n others; but they’ll all run down unless they’re wound up again every so often. Even fear will only run so long, as several late-lamented bullies have been forced to learn just before they passed over the Great Divide. After you’ve scared a feller as bad as he can get, it is well enough to let him alone. If you keep on addin’ horror onto horror, his fear is likely to run down; and the chances are ’at he’ll get irritated, and slaughter ya.
I don’t know whether or not patience can rightly be called an emotion; but anyway, mine runs down a little easier ’n airy other o’ my faculties, and sittin’ up in the chill an’ waitin’ for a lot o’ festive fools to go to bed, allus was just the sort o’ thing to disgust me. Those Cross-branders didn’t seem to have any more use for shut-eye that night than a convention o’ owls. Some of ’em rode off at dusk, but more of ’em arrived, and they held some sort of high jinks in the bunk-house, till I began to talk back at myself loud enough for all to hear. It was full moon an’ we could see dogs loafin’ an’ fightin’ down at the ranch, the light in the new cabin was the first to go out, an’ for the life of me, I couldn’t see where we had a single pair to stay on; but Horace seemed to accumulate obstinacy with every breath he drew. The sided with me, but criticizin’ Horace went again’ his religion, so he didn’t make any more uproar than a gnat fight.
Finally I calmed down until I could stretch each word out a full breath an’ sez in my doviest voice: “Horace, will you kindly tell me what in hell you intend to do?”
He studied the situation careful, and took all the time he needed to do it. “I’m goin’ back to camp,” sez he. “To-morrow night they’ll be sleepy, and we’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”
“Hurrah for hot weather! Greece has finally melted!” I yelled, an’ we hustled for our ponies.
I have a buck-skin riggin’ I put on the bridle of a hoss who gets into the evil way of steppin’ on his reins; and I had fixed one on Horace’s hoss to bring him back to his senses should he attempt to play the same trick he had worked on us the day before. When a hoss wearin’ one o’ these contrivances steps on his reins it pinches his ears, down close to his head where they’re tender, and generally works a reformation in short order.
We forgot all about this, and when Horace jumped into his saddle, he gave a jerk on the reins—and got bucked into a clump o’ cactus. The hoss didn’t try any runnin’, though, which proves he had learned a proper respect for trailin’ reins. Still, Horace wasn’t quite in the mood to see the beauty o’ my method, so he insisted upon my swappin’ hosses with him. It was a good two-hours’ ride to Olaf’s, and by the time we had changed saddles, and I had convinced the pony that his idees of buckin’ were childish an’ fu-tile, and his show of temper had only given him a hundred an’ ninety pounds to carry instead of a hundred an’ twenty, it was after nine o’clock.
We were hungry enough to call for speed; but still it was eleven by the time we reached the Spread. We thought we had seen a horseman go into it from the other direction; but the moon had ducked under a cloud and we couldn’t be certain.
We didn’t intend to waken Kit if we could help it; so we started to put the hosses into the corral as quiet as possible. Just as we had thrown our saddles over the top bar, we heard a commotion from the cabin, and started for it on the run.
There wasn’t any light in the cabin; but we heard Kit screamin’, and before we arrived, we saw a man rush around the corner just as the door was flung open, and two other men jumped towards him from the inside. These two had knives in their hands; and the man outside took a step back. They rushed him, but he hit one with his right fist, and the other with his left, and curled ’em both up again’ the side o’ the house in a way to make a feller’s heart dance for joy. Then we saw it was the Friar himself, and we gave a whoop.